


You Gave Me Wings (And Made Me Fly)

by Casey_Wolfe



Category: Battle Creek (TV)
Genre: Community: battlecreekmeme, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutilation (mentioned), Past Child Abuse, Romance, Wingfic, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casey_Wolfe/pseuds/Casey_Wolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When only a small portion of the population has wings, of course Milt is one of them.  What is it about this fact that seems to set Russ off more than anything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Gave Me Wings (And Made Me Fly)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fall_into_your_sunlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fall_into_your_sunlight/gifts).



> This was prompted to me by honorreid (and for the [Battle Creek Kink Meme](http://battlecreekmeme.livejournal.com/)) and I kinda went nuts with it.  Not that that’s anything new…  Welcome to my fun house of crazy.  *gate drops and door locks*  Hope you enjoy brownies.  *evil grin*

Despite all the advances in medical science and the realm of genetics, scientists still weren’t entirely sure how it happened.  Wings of every shape and size growing from the backs of otherwise ordinary humans was something that had been puzzling the scientific community since its inception.  With only about five percent of the population having this particular trait, it was no wonder it was such a mystery.

Even though it was something within the genetic code, it wasn’t necessarily hereditary.  Even with two winged parents it didn’t mean that their children would have wings.  Not to mention that wings would show up where they hadn’t for generations within a family.

With all the questions out there still regarding the winged, it was no surprise that people reacted to them in any number of ways.  A lot of people viewed them as special- in some cultures they were even worshipped.  Others however took the stance that wings were a sin.  Some extremist groups went so far as to offer wing removal in order to “save their souls” and were met with the same criticism as conversion therapy.

It was people like them that made Milt wonder if Russ’ surly behavior had anything to do with the fact Milt himself had wings.  He hadn’t missed the way Russ would look at his wings with what could only amount to disdain.  It got to the point that Milt pulled Holly aside one day to speak with her about it.

“I wanted to ask you…”  Milt licked his lips, eyes dancing away a moment.  “Is Russ…?  Does he not like the winged?”

That took Holly off-guard.  “What?  No.  Oh no.  What gave you that idea?”  Milt shrugged, not wanting to admit how much he watched Russ.  She gave him a sympathetic look.  “Russ is just… he doesn’t trust a lot of people.  It takes him a long time to warm up to strangers.

“We’re really the only people he talks to.  Font and I are his closest friends.  He just… he doesn’t like to open up.  Even with us a lot of times.  So, don’t take it personally?”

Milt nodded in understanding.  “Thanks Holly.”  He offered her a warm smile- a real one, not the fake one he tended to plaster on- and patted her shoulder before getting back to work.

With knowledge in hand, Milt decided it was best to give the other man his space, letting Russ get used to his presence.  He hoped Russ would warm to him in time, Milt offering up small gestures of friendship where he could.  It ended up with mixed results, however it did allow Milt to start noticing a few things.

* * *

Russ sat at his desk, tapping angrily at the keyboard.  He really hated that damn bird.  Milt with his perfect looks and his FBI gadgets and his beautiful wings…   _Ugh, no, not beautiful.  Fuck Russ, get it together._ Of course on cue, Milt popped into the office and called out that he was ready to go if Russ was.

“Yeah, yeah,” Russ grumbled as he rose, “keep your shirt on.”

“Or not,” Holly muttered as he walked by her desk, Russ glaring at her in return.  All she did was smile and the Detective sighed, cursing his best friend under his breath.  She had no business giving him those sly, knowing looks.

* * *

When they got on scene, Russ spotted something.  In his rush to check it out he accidentally brushed his body on Milt’s wings.  “Sorry,” he apologized quickly, surprising the Agent.  “Hope that didn’t hurt.”  Russ missed the questioning look directed at him, too busy with the gun powder residue in front of him.

“No,” Milt replied, “no, I’m fine.”  His brows were still furrowed together, curious as to Russ’ knowledge about wings.  It was true that it could sometimes hurt to have them touched.  At the very least it was simply common courtesy.  “Umm, thanks.”

“Hmm?”  Russ turned to him with a raised brow.  His brain caught up the very next moment and he brushed it off with a wave of his hand.  “Come look at this,” he said instead and Milt let the matter drop in favor of working the case.

* * *

“Oh I love your wings!” a woman said as the pair were standing in line at the pizza place to pick up their order.

Milt started to thank her but the woman had begun to reach towards his wings.  Russ growled, slapping her hand away.  “You don’t just _touch_ someone’s wings without permission!”  The woman was startled.  Then again so was Milt.  Russ didn’t care, snorting at her as he turned his back.

Seriously, how stupid were people sometimes?  It was a highly intimate thing to touch someone’s wings.  Outside of family, lovers, and close friends it just wasn’t done.  Not to mention _groping_ someone without consent was just plain rude.

He attempted to ignore Milt’s questioning gaze and shrugged him off when they made it outside with the lunch order for their colleagues.  “Don’t worry about it,” was all he offered, effectively shutting down the Agent.

* * *

It was the next day when they were working a case that yet another strange occurrence with Russ took place.  Their witness was- to put it mildly- an asshole.  For some reason he thought insulting Milt was necessary.

When Milt’s wings bristled out in annoyance, the guy remarked, “Oh, am I boring you owl brain?”

It wasn’t Milt that responded however.  Russ was like a snarling Rottweiler just let off his chain, getting into the guy’s face.  “He’s a Ferruginous Hawk dickwad.”  The guy was pushed back by Russ’ presence alone until he hit the nearby wall, eyes widening as Russ crowded him.  “If yer gonna engage your mouth, how ‘bout knowin’ what the fuck you're talkin’ about beforehand?”

Russ had never touched the guy but he was clearly scared shitless all the same.  The Detective only muttered about them leaving and Milt followed behind, still surprised at the outburst, but moreso that Russ had any idea what species he was.  “Thanks,” he mentioned as they were walking down the stairs.

“Fuck ‘im,” Russ answered.  “Stupid S.O.B.  I mean how do you mix up a hawk an’ owl?  A falcon _maybe_ , but an _owl_?”  Russ was completely oblivious to the way Milt was staring at him.

It wasn’t the first time Milt’s species had been misidentified.  Outside of the winged and their family, the average person didn’t really have a clue on how to identify them.  A lot of people could get the basic family, sure, but picking an individual species was impressive.

Granted, Milt was a unique looking bird of prey.  His wings were a snowy white on the underside, with the tips of his primary feathers being black and peppering of dark brown on his covert feathers.  The backside of his wings were a different story.  They ran from light brown at the top to dark brown at the ends.

Perhaps Russ had just gotten lucky.

Milt looked over at his partner as he buckled his seatbelt.  Russ was still going on about how useless the witness had been when Milt stretched his wings out and allowed the one to brush over the man’s arm.  That drew Russ’ attention, stopping in mid-sentence.  Milt however was looking at him evenly, as though nothing had happened, while buckling his own belt.

“You were saying?” the Agent inquired.

“Right…”  That snapped Russ out of it and he was back to bitching.

Or perhaps there was more to Russ than met the eye.

* * *

They were waiting to be able to talk with the Commander when Russ noticed something off with Milt’s wings.  “Some of your flight feathers are messed up,” he mentioned, finding they weren’t laying quite right.  Of course _flight feathers_ was a relative term as they certainly couldn’t fly as their avian brethren could.

“Yeah, I know,” Milt replied with a little sigh.  “It’s a pain to get the ones in the back.”

Russ hummed in agreement.  “May I?”

There was a confused agreement and Russ stepped closer behind him, fingers coming up to run through the ruffled feathers.  He smiled a little at the full body shiver it caused but he wasn’t about to read into it.  As far as Russ knew the man didn’t know anyone outside of their colleagues in Battle Creek, so it stood to reason he hadn’t been groomed by anyone else in some time.  His wings being sensitive wouldn’t be surprising.  “Lemme know if it hurts,” Russ offered all the same.

“It’s fine,” Milt managed, his voice pitched a little higher.

As his fingers traveled through the crooked feathers, carefully straightening them, Russ observed their condition.  “A lot of these are worn out,” he mentioned.  He rubbed along the base of the shafts, effectively preening at Milt’s feathers as he asked, “When’re you molting?”

“Soon.”  Milt unconsciously pressed into the attention Russ was paying him.

Once again Russ only hummed at the information.  “All fixed,” he said, patting Milt’s shoulder before walking off.

Maybe the Commander would be able to see them now.

* * *

His feathers had only begun falling out that morning but after lunch Russ returned to the station with a jar in his hand.  He walked casually into Milt’s office, tossing it to him.  “That’ll help with the itching and discomfort,” was all he said before simply disappearing.

It turned out to be some type of salve with some essential oils mixed in by the smell of it.  Whatever it was, it was a pleasant aroma and he worked it onto the shafts of his flight feathers.  He was thankful that molting only happened once a year- or longer once the winged reached maturity because they didn’t actually fly as birds did, so their feathers kept longer.

As he preened it caused him to recall the feeling of Russ’ fingers in his feathers, the shocking amount of arousal that had hit him.  It was true that it had been a long time since anyone else had groomed him- he had no family in the immediate area to speak of and no one that he was particularly close enough to to allow it.  Still, he knew that wasn’t the cause of his reaction.  It was because it was _Russ_ that it felt so good.

It wasn’t until he was leaving the office later that day that he saw Russ again.  He offered the Detective a smile.  “Not sure what that stuff is but it worked great.”  Milt had enjoyed the relief from the usual annoyance that molting was.  “Where’d you get it?”

“Just a little something I picked up over the years.”

Milt didn’t bother to hide his surprise.  “You made it?”

Russ gave a little shrug.  “I can write it out for ya if ya want.  No big deal.”

Milt watched him walk away, acting as though it was in fact nothing special to note.  “How do you know all this stuff?” he called after him, but Russ only held up his hand in farewell, not even turning around.  All the Agent could do was shake his head in disbelief.

Of course that was also when he looked over into the Detective Unit to find Holly still working away at her desk.  Tired of being in the dark and receiving no real answers from Russ he decided to confront Holly once again.  She gave him a smile which slowly faded as she noted his expression.

“What’s the deal with Russ?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.  He knew _something_ was up but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out.  “Why does he know so much about wings?”

Holly clammed up immediately, standing up and grabbing some files.  “You should really talk to Russ about it.”

As she was flipping through folders in the filing cabinet, Milt moved around the desk to come up beside her, dropping his voice.  “I have.  He won’t talk to me.”  He observed the way she worried her lower lip.  “You know something.”

All she did was give him a sympathetic look.  “Give him time Milt.”  She patted his arm then, going back to her desk.

Sighing, Milt left, wings fluffing up in mild irritation.  What was it that they were hiding from him?  More importantly, why?   _Give him time_ …  Milt hoped he wouldn’t have to wait long.

* * *

That time ended up coming a few weeks later.  Milt had stopped molting by then, his pin feathers having come in and growing nicely.  Just that morning Russ had complimented him on how his wings were looking, Milt attempting to hide the rush of pride but failing as his wings stretched out, showing off a little.  Now, Milt was pacing in the surgical waiting room waiting to hear how Russ was doing.

He’d long since sent everyone else off to finish the case, the one that had gotten Russ shot.  Holly was the only one there, having been unable to convince her to do the same despite his promises that he would call them with updates.  In truth, Milt was thankful for the company, especially when the doctor appeared to let them know everything had gone just fine.

“A few more centimeters to the right and the bullet would have hit his heart,” the surgeon revealed.  “As it is, he’ll actually be walking out of here in a few days.”

Milt felt relief wash through him, smiling down at Holly brightly.  “Can we see him?” she inquired.  The surgeon offered them a kind, if tired, smile and told them Russ should be awake soon.

By the time Milt made it to the room after giving the Commander the update and getting his own in turn, Russ was indeed awake and talking to Holly who sat at his bedside.  “Hey,” Russ greeted.

Milt gave him a soft smile in turn, going around to the opposite side of the bed to sit against the window ledge.  “How ya feelin’?”  When Russ huffed, Milt’s smile grew.  “Dumb question, huh?”

“Got it in one,” Russ replied, clearly still a little dazed from all the drugs wearing off.

“Well, we should let you sleep,” Holly offered, patting his hand.

“I want a case report,” Russ griped.

“Tomorrow,” she chided.  “You need to rest.”  Ignoring his bitching, she stood and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

As she tried to get Milt to join her, Russ threw out, “At least let ‘im help me to the john first.”

“Fine,” she sighed, pausing in the doorway to tell Milt, “See you in the morning.”  The Agent nodded and Holly gentled her expression as she looked at Russ.  “Feel better.”

Once she was gone, Russ’ gaze snapped to Milt.  “Alright.  Time for a jail break.”

“I don’t think so Russell.”  Milt pressed a hand to his chest to prevent him from moving.  “You almost died.  You’re not going anywhere for awhile.”  He needed to be on a steady stream of antibiotics and morphine for the next few days.

Russ cursed softly.  “Well at least tell me what the fuck’s going on then.”

Milt conceded, sitting on the edge of the bed by Russ’ hip to fill him in on what they had so far.  They were close, just something was off.  Unfortunately Russ wasn’t at full mental function for the time being and was in no position to help them figure it out.

“So you’re really not gonna break me outta here tonight, huh?” Russ tried again.  Milt only shook his head but there was a smile on his face.  “Well at least help me to the bathroom before you go.  Didn’t lie about that part.”

“Yeah, alright.”  Milt helped him to sit up on the edge of the bed, the back of Russ’ hospital gown falling open.  As he went to tie it properly so it wasn’t a nuisance as Russ tried to walk, that was when he saw them.  Two nasty scars sat between his shoulder blades and spine, right where a pair of wings would be.  “Russ…” he breathed out, fingers tracing them unbidden.

“Bathroom first,” the man grumbled and Milt reluctantly helped him slowly get to the toilet.  Once Russ was back in bed, he looked forlornly out the window.

“Russ… you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”  Milt tried to offer him a way out, worried what horrible memories he would conjure up.

“No, s’alright.”  His voice broke a little and he thankfully accepted the cup of water Milt offered him.  “It’s not like you wouldn’t find out eventually.”

Milt took a seat on the bed again, hand resting on Russ’ thigh in support.  “You had wings.”  Russ nodded.  “What happened to them?”  An amputation due to an accident wasn’t unheard of, and given Russ’ track record of being injured on the job, well, Milt could only imagine what the man had done.

He certainly wasn’t expecting the answer he got.

“Did you know my mom’s in prison?” he asked instead.  “Has been since I was twelve.  She, uh, she killed my dad.”  Milt’s mouth fell open.  “She’ll be out soon actually.  Should have gotten life being that it was premeditated and all, but the DA reduced it to second degree murder given the circumstances.  Even so, the Judge gave her 40 years.”

“The circumstances?”  Milt’s mouth went dry, afraid of the answer.

“He cut my wings off.”  Russ’ eyes snapped up to meet his, a fire behind them like he’d never seen and Milt felt the air leave his lungs.  “Well,” he corrected bitterly, “ _he_ didn’t.  He just took me to one of those Savior Centers and helped hold me down while they hacked them off.”

Milt’s own wings scrunched up against his body, the picture of a young and broken Russ lying on a table covered in his own blood assaulting his mind.  Those centers were a menace, offering “salvation” for the winged.  The laws protecting minors from being forced into wing removal weren’t established back then.  What Russ’ father had done was tantamount to child abuse and it was clear how his mother had been shown some form of clemency- though to Milt it was still too harsh a sentence.

“They didn’t sedate me,” Russ continued, “Not that it mattered since I passed out from the pain and stress pretty quickly.”  He scoffed.  “Between the lack of sterilization and the crude stitching, it’s a wonder I didn’t die of infection.”

“Russ…”  Milt’s throat closed, his words failing him anyway.  Instead he leaned forward and wrapped Russ up in his arms.  Russ stiffened momentarily before sagging against Milt.  His arms wrapped tentatively around Milt’s waist, brushing against his wings in the process.

Neither of them said a word, instead Russ accepting the comfort Milt offered.  There was something about Milt’s presence that screamed _safe_ and _protection_ to him.  Russ turned his face into Milt’s neck, choking back a sob.  All Milt did was hold him even tighter.

“I’m so sorry Russ,” he murmured in his ear.

Shaking his head, Russ pulled back just enough to meet Milt’s chocolate eyes.  “It was a long time ago.”  He had long since ‘come to terms’ with what happened.  There was no changing the past and rather he became hardened at a young age in order to deal with things.  “‘M sorry I took it out on you.”

Milt shook his head, pulling Russ back in as he hushed him.  It of course all made sense then how Russ knew so much about wings, but also why he caught the man looking at his own wings so much.  “Nothing to forgive,” Milt whispered, wings coming up to wrap around Russ like a cloak, a protective bubble to shield him from the world.

On instinct Russ reached out and thread his fingers into one of Milt’s wings.  There was a soft intake of breath but Milt didn’t pull away and Russ curled his fingers to hold on.  Russ wasn’t entirely sure it was the smart thing to be doing at that very moment but he was tired of pretending, tired of pushing Milt away when all he wanted to do was hold him close, to feel just like this.

Making a split second decision that was probably partially influenced by the morphine and the warmth spreading around him from Milt’s wings, Russ turned his head to press a kiss to the corner of Milt’s mouth.  Once again he felt Milt freeze in surprise but then Russ got a surprise of his own.  Milt turned to meet his mouth fully.

It was just a gentle press of lips except there was an underlying heat behind it.  It was tender and real, something that Russ wasn’t used to.  He worked Milt’s mouth open, tongue slipping inside.  He was met with a soft moan, Milt dragging him closer.

That was when his wounds pulled and Russ hissed in pain.  Milt released him, looking him over frantically as he apologized.  Russ couldn’t help but chuckle, giving the man a crooked grin.  “I’m fine,” he assured as he was pressed back against the bed.  He snagged Milt’s wrist, tugging him down to steal another kiss.  “Been wanting to do that for awhile.”

Milt smiled down at him as he admitted, “Me too.”  He chuckled as he sat up.  “You didn’t exactly project that though.”  To say Russ was a bit rough around the edges was putting it mildly, and Russ himself would no doubt never argue that fact either.

There was nothing Russ could say to that and so he simply shrugged a shoulder and gave him an easy grin.  That had Milt shaking his head in disbelief but giving him a warm and open smile in return.  Milt’s fingers tangled with Russ’ on the bed, the tension between them melting away.

* * *

Every day Milt visited the hospital and every day he was greeted with the same “Come to spring me out?”  On the third day however, Milt was able to smile back and answer in the affirmative.  He’d never seen Russ move so quickly and he barely bit back laughter.

He ignored Russ’ bitching that he could walk, pushing him out of the hospital in a wheelchair as per regulation to his awaiting SUV.  “You’re coming to stay with me for a bit,” Milt informed as he pulled out of the parking lot.  “I already went and grabbed some clothes and toiletries from your apartment.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Russ grumbled.

“No, but the doctors don’t want you staying alone for a bit.  And besides…”  Milt took hold of Russ’ hand.  “It would make me feel better.”

“Yeah, yeah…”  Russ pretended to be put-out but Milt noted the soft smile on his lips.  He squeezed Milt’s hand as he teased, “I guess I can let you pamper me for awhile.”

“Stay as long as you want,” Milt replied warmly, and he meant it too.

When they got back to his place, Milt wrapped his arm around Russ’ waist to steady him- though he hid it as a casual gesture- and his wing followed, draping around Russ’ back and shoulder.  Russ knew exactly what Milt was doing of course, however he couldn’t find it in him to care.  He snuggled closer, enjoying the feeling of feathers against his skin.

Milt offered him something to eat but Russ declined.  “I’m actually pretty tired,” he admitted.  Milt immediately led him to the bedroom and pointed out the bags with Russ’ things.  He turned the bed down while Russ changed into a pair of pajama bottoms, allowing his torso to stay bare save for the wrappings around his chest to cover the staples.

“Sweet dreams,” Milt said, pressing a kiss to his lips.  “I’ll be here if you need anything.”  The case had been closed out and Milt hadn’t taken any new ones on with Russ being in the condition he was, so he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

“Milt?”  He’d been leaving when Russ called him and he turned to find the Detective biting his lower lip.  “Stay with me?”

Milt smiled, giving him a little nod.  “Alright.”

He allowed Russ to get comfortable on the bed, laid on his back and propped up a little with a couple pillows, before curling up next to him.  Milt’s arm was around his waist, his wing draping over him as his leg hooked over Russ’ as well.  He didn’t even care if it seemed possessive.

Russ only smiled though, not minding in the least.  He snuggled closer, one arm falling onto Milt’s and holding his wrist.  His other hand grabbed the end of Milt’s wing, fingers twinning between feathers.  The soft sigh against his cheek caused Russ to smile.

“Sleep,” Milt murmured.  “I’ll be right here.”

That was exactly what Russ did, surrounded by warmth, safer and more protected than he had been in years, feeling as though he’d finally come home.

/End

_You gave me wings and made me fly_

_You touched my hand, I could touch the sky_

_I lost my faith, you gave it back to me_

_You said no star was out of reach_

**Author's Note:**

> The title and lyrics are from “Because You Loved Me” by Celine Dion.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://thedenofcaseywolfe.tumblr.com/).


End file.
